Model Behaviour
by missyme48
Summary: When Hotch said 'undercover' Emily really didn't have this in mind.


**Disclaimer: **CBS owns criminal minds not me.

**Timeline: **AU present day

Sitting in the chair has given me a lot of time to think and realise a few things:

The hairstylist was playing and winning a game of tug of war with my hair

I wasn't going to stand after spending two hours sitting in this chair. My legs had lost and regained the feeling in them numerous times and I can practically feel my leg muscle dying.

Right now, I really don't mind not being able to stand, it meant I wouldn't have to go anywhere near the runway. As painful as it is, I'd rather stay here and let hairstylist, Mark, and my hair have a re-match, I'm that nervous. But, I know, ever since I agreed I gave up the right to choose, still when Hotch said 'undercover' this isn't what I had in mind.

"Now, just one more little….," Mark says quietly. I see him take a piece of hair from the hairclip. If I'd had all the time in the world to brace myself, I wouldn't have been prepared. It was a sharp, sudden to that piece of hair, that, later, when I looked at them mirror, I really wouldn't know how it was supposed to make the hairstyle look better. I leap forward, my arm lashing out and knocking the hairspray from the hands of an assistant. It rolls, on its way to the wall, when someone stops it with their foot.

The foot, with its brown/green strappy high-heeled shoe, belongs to my instructor, Jessie. For the last three weeks she had been schooling me in everything model. She gracefully bends down, picks up the can, hands it back to the still wide-eyed assistant and gives me an amused smile before walking off. I can't help noticing how constricted her long legs seem in the on-shoulder, knee length sparkly dress she's wearing. The hairstylist shakes the can and sprays a mist of it all around my head, not just my hair but my whole face as well.

"And,voila." He unties the cape and spins the chair around so I can get out. Despite all the discomfort he has caused me, I smile at him and to guys dressed all in black with their hair styled in spikes, lead me over to a line of models waiting to go on.

On the way, I catch a glimpse of myself in one of the mirrors and I stop dead. My hair, styled with extensions, is designed into a bun with ringlets bordering my face. A plait is pinned across the bottom of my head. My make-up is simple, my eyes overloaded with mascara. The masterpiece, though, is my dress. An elegant, beautifully designed, full-length dress. It's a red halter-neck, with its plunging back ending in a V-shape. It just barely touched the floor thanks to the black peep-toe patent stilettoes.

"Um," I hear one of the guys start, unsure of what to do. He's Asian or of Asian descent with red and blue streaks going through his hair. The other guy was your typical American dude with green eyes and brown hair. I take another look in the mirror, feeling the butterflies beginning to stir. I smile at them slightly and follow them over to the end of about thirty or so models.

All of them seem so sure of themselves, standing tall with their heads held high. I almost laugh at the difference between them and me. Me, shaking like a building during an earthquake, having mental images of herself freezing up on the runway like after someone looks into Medusa's eyes.

Someone touches my shoulder, bringing me out of my thoughts. It's Jessie. She's in the same dress as before, her light ginger hair in a side fishtail plait. "I just came to say good luck, so good luck." I nod and she smiles slightly before walking away. The line is down to about twenty eight models and as time goes by, the more the butterflies make themselves noticed.

"Well, if it isn't-"

"JJ, I'm really not in the mood so please."

"Sorry. I, um, just came to see how you're doing."

I laugh. "Me? Yeah, I'm fine," I say, sarcastically, what I usually do when I'm nervous. I'm just bait for a deranged killer. And I'm not even sure I can do this, I mean everyone here is so self-confident and here I am shakin' like a frickin' leaf." Realising I've gone off on one like Garcia, I start taking deep breaths while JJ starts her Pep-talk.

"Ok, look," JJ pauses for a long moment, brushing a strand of hair from her face." You mightn't have seen me, but I was there when you first walked into to the BAU. And I remember the way you walked in there like owned the place Emily. Alright, you were practically radiating confidence, with your head held high. Remember? "I nod. "So channel that woman. Alright be that woman!"

I nod, with more conviction this time and wrap JJ in a quick hug whispering, "Thank you, Jajye," into her ear. It's only when break apart that I notice everyone staring at us and that there was nothing but air separating me from the runway. All the models in front me had been on, off and getting ready to go on again.

"I think maybe you should, um." JJ points to the runway. I nod and mouth yeah. With a sudden idea, I reach for her hand." C'mon then."

She moves her hand from my reach. "What? What? No! Are you mad?

"Stark-raving," I answer. "Oh, c'mon, JJ, live a little. We've already held up the whole fashion show, what more can we do?"

"Exactly, which means we shouldn't do anything else to antagonise these people."

I look at JJ with my best pleading look and she sighs. "Fine, but-"

I grab her hand, not letting her finish her sentence and lead her on the runway. Everything stops when we emerge, everyone stares at us. I feel all the self-confidence I've acquired shatter like someone hitting a glass window with a hammer." Remember," JJ says. I nod and hand in hand we walk down the runway. One by one the cameras start flashing again.

We both look at each other and smile. Time to sell it and boy does JJ sell it big. She gives cheeky winks, blows kisses and smiles Cheshire cat smiles. By the time we reach the end of the runway, I'm beginning to fear that the smile is permanently stuck in place. We strike poses, turning to look at each other, turning back to the cameras.

When we get back stage, we're in stitches, holding onto each to keep from falling over. We make several attempts to speak before Morgan comes over telling us they caught the UnSub, pretending to be a journalist. I thank him, it's the first time since this whole thing started I haven't felt the urge to slap him. "I better get changed," I tell JJ and go behind the changing screen, slip off the dress and put my sweater and jeans back on. I come back minutes later and hand the dress on the nearest rail.

I put my arm around JJ's shoulders. "I expect when we get back to the hotel you will draw my bath.

JJ elbows me playfully in the ribs and walks on ahead. "Never gonna happen."

I smile. Being a model is something I could get used to.


End file.
